A Friend's Revenge
by lazybum89
Summary: Harry, who is nineteen, finishing up his Auror training and looking for a flat, is asked by a friend to do a favor that involves moving into the basement flat at 221B Baker Street. Who is Harry to say no especially when this friend saved him when he was fifteen? Besides, it could be fun.


A/N: I don't own either Harry Potter or Sherlock. They belong to their respect owners and I am not them.

**Background:** The Harry Potter timeline is compliant, as far as character deaths or major situations, up to the epilogue as the epilogue isn't working with what I have in mind, so far anyway. I haven't ruled anything out completely, but Harry is nineteen years old so the epilogue isn't a factor yet anyway. For Sherlock it takes place some time between 'The Blind Banker' and 'The Great Game' as that apparently is my favorite time in this series to set a story...

A/N: Please remember I am American and while I can look up certain things to try to make it sound British I will never get all the little things so I beg your forgiveness and to please ignore anything too American or feel free to point it out to me, politely, and to tell me the correct way it should be so I can correct it. :)

P.S.: Also all mistakes are my own and this is not beta'd so feel free to point out mistakes too so I can fix them! :)

* * *

Chapter 1

"You sure you don't mind doing this?" asked the man looking at the young man in front of him.

"I'm sure. It could even be a bit a fun and I'm due some fun especially after the last few years I've had," replied the young man.

"Yeah," said the man, a little awkwardly though gratefully, "How's Ginny by the way?"

"It didn't work out the way we wanted it to but we're still friends," said the young man sounding wistful.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I knew how much you liked her," said the man.

"Not your fault," said Harry, rubbing the back of his neck. "So what's the address of this flat again and what shape is it in?"

"The flat is in the basement that you can rent, though it needs fixing up a bit, and the address of the building is 221B Baker Street," replied the man.

* * *

"Mrs. Hudson?" asked the young man who rang the bell after the door was opened.

"Yes?" replied Mrs. Hudson politely.

"I'm Mr. Potter. We talked on the phone yesterday about the basement flat," replied the young man, standing on her stoop.

"Oh yes! Well, come in and I'll show it to you," said Mrs. Hudson, opening the door wider, with a smile on her face.

Harry smiled at her, stepped inside, waited for her to shut the door and then waited for her to lead the way.

As Mrs. Hudson led Harry to the basement flat, she struck up a conversation and asked, "I hope you don't mind me asking, dear, but how old are you exactly? You look a little young."

"I'm nineteen," replied Harry, politely, still smiling, "and I don't mind you asking. I would expect nothing less from a potential landlady."

Mrs. Hudson smiled at him, glad he was so polite and understanding and said, "I'm glad you understand, dear. You said on the phone that your parents have passed away? I'm sorry, again, about that."

"It happened long ago and the one responsible for their deaths has finally paid the price," said Harry interrupting.

"They were murdered? You poor dear," said Mrs. Hudson, sympathetically.

Harry grimaced slightly. He hated to receive sympathy about this.

Mrs. Hudson, recognizing that she was treading in dangerous territories, said, "You also said, they left you some money so that you could pay for a flat while you were looking for a job or continuing your education?"

"Yes, that's right," said Harry nodding his head at the story he was going with. They finally reached the door to the flat. It said 221C. "I thought the address was 221B?" he asked confused.

"It is. One of my other tenants, who is now renting the top flat, used to rent this flat before he moved in with a flatmate, dears both of them, won't admit they like each other though even if it is obvious to the rest of us," Harry raised his eyebrows at that, "Anyway, he said the door felt like it was missing something so he put this on the door and I hadn't the heart to take it down. If you decide to move in, you can, of course."

"Right," said Harry because really what was he suppose to say to that overload of information?

Mrs. Hudson just nodded her head and opened the door to the flat. Harry stepped around her and stepped into the flat after she gestured him in.

"It, of course, needs a little work but with a little TLCEG, it can be right as rain," said Mrs. Hudson.

"TLCEG?" asked Harry.

"Tender, love, care and a little bit of elbow grease, of course," said Mrs. Hudson with a slight chuckle.

Harry looked around the flat. It didn't look nearly as bad as what he thought it would and shouldn't take as long to clean and fix up, especially since he had a little bit of help with Kreacher who wouldn't mind the work, even if it was a Muggle flat. He didn't want to seem too eager though as that would be too suspicious for what he had to do for his friend who had saved him four summers ago.

Harry turned to look back at Mrs. Hudson, who seemed oddly nervous, and he smiled at her and said, "It perfect for what I had in mind and I don't mind the work, I'm use to hard work and I'm on a week vacation from my job or well... my final stages of training anyway."

"Oh? That's wonderful, dear. Come with me and I'll get a lease all set and ready for you," she gestured for him to follow her again out of the flat. "What are you in training to be?" she asked.

"A police officer," he replied.

"Oh? Aren't you young at nineteen to be finishing? Have you been training at Scotland Yard?" she asked leading the way back to her own flat to get the paperwork together.

"No, it's a special branch and it's top secret, sorry, even about being almost finished at my age," he said and he sounded slightly sheepish.

Mrs. Hudson laughed and said, "I understand more than you think. My other tenants are always doing something with police work that is top secret or another. Sit here at the table while I get everything."

"Okay," said Harry as Mrs. Hudson left him sitting there. He thought she had an awful lot of trust in him and he was a stranger.

When she came back, he asked, "Do you usually trust strangers like this?"

"No, in fact, I don't but there is just something about you that seems like your very trustworthy and that you wouldn't hurt a fly, intentionally," said Mrs. Hudson.

Harry stared at her.

"I also got a phone call from a friend of yours who was a very good reference. In fact, he said, he pointed you in my direction," said Mrs. Hudson.

Now Harry understood and got an understanding look on his face. He just hoped his friend didn't ruin the whole thing yet.

"I understand," said Harry, nodding his head now, "So who are these other tenants that you keep mentioning?"

"You haven't heard about them? Or read their websites?" asked Mrs. Hudson sounding surprised.

"I was at an exclusive boarding school when I went to school and they didn't like technology so I didn't have access and I never got into the habit of using it. I don't even like my mobile phone. We keep having fights that I end up losing," explained Harry. "Are they famous or something? Will I become famous for moving in here?" Merlin help him if he did. He was going to find another flat regardless of his promise to his friend.

"No, no you should be fine, dear. It's just surprising. Almost everyone I've talked to lately has checked out one of their websites, especially John's blog," said Mrs. Hudson.

"Blog?" asked Harry, curiously, wondering what it was.

"It's like an online journal, only John, that's Doctor John Watson, uses it to keep track of his and Sherlock's, that's Sherlock Holmes, cases that they do. Sherlock is the world's only Consulting Detective, after all," explained Mrs. Hudson kindly as she organized her paperwork for Harry to sign.

Harry nodded his head in understanding as Mrs. Hudson explained even if she couldn't see it and then asked, "Consulting Detective?"

"It's better if he explains his own job to you, dear, that way you can fully appreciate it," said Mrs. Hudson, kindly.

Harry nodded his head again.

"Here's the lease. Please read through it. I'm making a cuppa, would you like one?" asked Mrs. Hudson as she handed over the lease.

"Oh you don't have to," said Harry, taking the lease to read through.

"Just this once, dear, I'm not anyone's housekeeper, after all, if only Sherlock and John could remember this," said Mrs. Hudson as she set to making some tea and getting some biscuits.

Harry just stared at her for moment, not sure what that statement was implying to him, before he remembered he was suppose to be reading his lease agreement.

Ten minutes later and Harry was staring at his lease agreement incredulously. The first part of it was normal as far as he could tell lease agreements went, the price for renting, damage and letting him know that Mrs. Hudson would deal with all his mail that would come via post, not owl post he added to himself mentally, but the part where no full _dead_ human bodies were allowed in the building? Was that really necessary? Along with no chemicals in the building that could potentially cause everyone in said building to blow up into a million little pieces if mixed together? Or the part where older brothers aren't allowed to abduct and bribe landladies or other tenants? What in the name of Merlin was that about?

He must have been staring at the papers longer than he thought because Mrs. Hudson interrupted his thoughts of incredulity by placing his cup of tea in front of him with a plate of biscuits with a, "Here you go, dear, and please remember, I'm not your housekeeper."

"Er, Mrs. Hudson, do random body parts normally end up on the stairs?" asked Harry, nervously. He did _not_ want to run into any bodiless heads.

"No, not after that last conversation I had with Sherlock. You have nothing to worry about. That sheet is more of a warning for you than anything else," said Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh," said Harry. So there is chance he could be abducted and bribed by older brothers or blown up into a million little pieces? The things you do for your friends.

"You have nothing to worry about for a few days, Sherlock is on a case and he rarely does anything in the flat when he's on a case," said Mrs. Hudson as if sensing his thoughts which were probably written all over his face.

"Right," said Harry. He took a deep breath and gathered his Gryffindor courage. He did face Voldemort's ugly mug, and lived to tell the tale multiple times, what's a few random body parts and potential abductions? "Where do I sign?"

Mrs. Hudson smiled, "Right here." She handed him a pen, which felt really weird in his hand after dealing with quills for so long, and pointed to the correct spot for him to sign. When he finished signing his name, she took the pen and signed her own name and then they signed another copy so that he could have a copy of the lease.

"Is tomorrow okay for me to start moving my stuff in?" asked Harry.

Mrs. Hudson smiled and said, "Of course, Mr. Potter."

"Please, call me Harry," said Harry, smiling at her and they sat about finishing their tea and making arrangements to get him moved in the next day even though there still needed to be repairs.

* * *

"Hey Ron, Hermione," said Harry as he stopped by their flat they were renting in Muggle London. "Oh, hey George."

"Hey Harry," they all said.

"How did the flat searching go?" asked Hermione, getting up and getting Harry a Butterbeer.

"It went good. I found a flat I liked, even though it needs fixing up," said Harry.

"Is it the one you said your friend wanted you to look at as a favor to him?" asked George.

"Yeah," said Harry.

"Harry," said Hermione disapprovingly while she handed Harry his Butterbeer.

"Hermione, he saved my life. This is the least I could do and its not like I'm causing any permanent damage to anyone," said Harry, taking his Butterbeer.

"Spoken like a true prankster," said George, clapping him on the back. "If you need any - er - _assistance _let me know, mate, and I'll hook you up with some from the shop. There is a whole section that you can use in front of Muggles."

"Thanks," said Harry grinning at George as he took a sip from his Butterbeer.

"I still don't see why I don't even get a discount but Harry gets free things from the shop," said Ron, shaking his head.

Hermione just shook her head at them all, knowing there was no way to talk Harry out of something once he set his mind to something though it was really good to see him smiling and joking around with Ron and George, he did it so little these past few years.

"Can you help me with some moving tomorrow?" asked Harry to Ron, Hermione and George.

"No problem, mate," said Ron and Hermione nodded her head while they were both thinking that Harry must be mental if he thought he could move somewhere without their help or approval of the place.

"Let me check with Lee to see if he can cover the shop for me and I'll get back to you," said George, but he was already mentally making arrangements to help Harry move, regardless if Lee could help cover the store or not. There was no way Harry was going to move somewhere he didn't know.

"Thanks, guys," said Harry and they spent the rest of the day making plans for his move, working out some of the kinks in the plans he had in mind for helping out his friend, – of which Hermione had no part in whatsoever though that one part just wouldn't do – and talked for the rest of the night.

* * *

A/N2: So I had planned for this to be a one-shot... my mind rebelled and decided to develop a more interesting plot so it is going to be longer than that. Updates will probably be sporadic as I'm working on 'It All Started in a Bank' as well.


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